Dreamscapes

by Tamara McKinley

  Catriona sat beside her and put her arm around her waist. ‘We’ll be right, Mam,’ she said with bolstered confidence. ‘Demetri seems nice and he’s promised to see us right.’ She leaned her cheek against Velda’s shoulder. ‘At least we’ve got a proper roof over our heads and lovely beds to sleep in.’

  Velda groaned and eased her hand from Catriona’s grip. ‘That it should come to this,’ she sobbed. ‘Charity, that’s what it is. Charity. We have no say in what will happen to us.’ Turning her back on Catriona, she sank against the pillows, drew up her knees and curled into a ball of misery, her face buried in the crisp linen.

  ‘Mam?’ Catriona touched her shoulder, but her hand was shrugged away. ‘Leave me,’ Velda sobbed. ‘I want Declan. Only Declan.’

  Catriona wanted him too, but even at her tender age she knew that all the wishing in the world wouldn’t bring him back. She sat there in isolation, wanting so badly to share her own grief with her mother, for she could feel the ache of her loss, could feel the tears gathering tightly in her throat and yearned to be able to release them.

  The moments passed and she realised with awful clarity that Velda had neither the will, nor the energy to deal with her daughter’s grief, for she was incapable of coping with her own. With dull acceptance, Catriona quietly left the room.

  Her own room was just down the hall and exactly the same as Velda’s. Long and narrow, with a bare floor and white walls, it was in sharp contrast to the highly coloured and cramped wagon she’d lived in all her life. The bed was narrow too, the brass polished to gleaming perfection against the snow white of the linen.

  Catriona sat down, feeling the soft mattress cushion her against the coiled metal springs and the thickness of the pillows beckoning her to rest against them. She ran her hands over the crisp whiteness, almost afraid of marking its perfection. It would be her first real experience of having a room of her own. She felt a thrill of excitement course through her, and was impatient for night to fall.

  Resisting the lure of the pillows and soft mattress, Catriona sat on the edge of the bed and took in the rest of the room. A small cupboard at one side of the bed held an imposing china chamber pot, and there was a chest of drawers jammed in the other side. A painting of a rather fierce woman in old-fashioned clothes glared down from the wall opposite, and there was a bowl and jug on a marble-topped table beneath the single window. Coloured hooks had been fixed on the back of the door, towels had been folded in a neat pile next to the bowl, and there was a hairbrush and comb on the top of the chest of drawers. Demetri had thought of everything.

  The window was high, and Catriona pulled the wooden chair across the floor and stood on it to look out at the view. She sighed with disappointment. All she could see were the grey slates of the roof, the corner of one of the chimneys, and the tops of the trees in the surrounding rainforest.

  Having unpacked her few clothes and stored them in the drawers and on the hooks, she placed her books on the top and tried to make the place more welcoming by draping a colourful shawl over the bed. Once she’d placed the family photographs on the bedside cupboard and stacked her father’s record collection alongside the wind-up gramophone on the floor, she felt it was at last beginning to look like home.

  Catriona sat on the bed, wondering what to do next. It was still daylight, and although she was tired, she didn’t want to waste the day by sleeping. Neither did she want to stay up here when there were so many places to explore.

  She moved restlessly around the room, debating her options. She could explore the towers at leisure now Mr Kane and Demetri were downstairs, or she could go out into the grounds and wander for a while. Her stomach rumbled reminding her she hadn’t eaten more than a sandwich and a tiny cake since early that morning. The kitchen would be a good place to start, and she didn’t think Demetri would mind if she asked cook for something to keep her going until tea.

  Leaving her room she listened at her mother’s door. Velda was no longer sobbing, and Catriona suspected she was asleep. Turning away, she hurried down the stairs. If she remembered rightly, the kitchen was through the door in the panelling of the entrance hall and down a long, tiled corridor. Her mouth was already watering at the thought of bread and cheese and perhaps a little pickle.

  She suddenly became aware of the different mood of the raised voices coming from Demetri’s private rooms. Guests and maids who’d been milling in the hall had stopped and were listening unashamedly at the exchange. This was no enthusiastic relating of news, she realised as she faltered uncertainly on the landing. This was a furious row.

  She stood there, hands gripping the banisters as she tried to decide what to do for the best. She knew she shouldn’t be listening, but, like the others below, she couldn’t help it.

  The voices were so loud and angry, she wouldn’t have been surprised to learn they could be heard in Cairns.

  ‘You should have told me,’ shouted Demetri.

  ‘Why?’ yelled Kane. ‘What difference does it make?’

  ‘It make lot of difference.’

  ‘We had a deal, and it’s none of your damn business,’ stormed Kane. ‘Watch your mouth, Demetri, or you’ll be sorry.’

  ‘Sorry?’ Demetri’s voice rose to a roar. ‘You dare to threaten me, Kane? Is you will be sorry.’

  ‘We had a deal,’ shouted Kane. ‘What’s changed?’

  ‘Deal is off,’ yelled Demetri. ‘You know why – so don’t insult me by asking.’ His voice dropped several decibels, but his words were still distinct. ‘Always you lie. You say you change – but you do not.’

  Catriona gripped the highly polished banister, frozen by their raging – frightened for the consequences. And even though the voices were softer now, the words indistinct, she could feel their menace and was frightened by the violence that had erupted between the two men she had thought were friends.

  Without warning, the door to the drawing room crashed against the wall, breaking the tableau of interested guests and servants who swiftly got out of the way.

  Catriona let go of the banister and cringed in the shadows of the upper flight of stairs, her hands covering her mouth, smothering the sharp hiss of her breath.

  Demetri stormed out of the drawing room, his boot-heels rapping against the marble floor as he crossed the hall and slammed his way through the door that led to the kitchens.

  Kane emerged from the drawing room and with an almost insolent nonchalance, leaned against the door jamb and lit a cigar. Yet, as he stared across the hall to where Demetri had disappeared, his eyes were arctic, his face etched in cold relief as if from marble.

  From her vantage point at the top of the stairs Catriona began to tremble. She had never seen this side of Mr Kane – he frightened her.

  Chapter Six

  There was no sign of Demetri at dinner time, and Velda and Catriona hesitated in the hallway wondering where they should go.

  ‘Dinner will be served in Mr Yvchenkov’s dining room,’ muttered Edith, glaring at Velda. ‘It wouldn’t be proper for you to eat with the guests.’

  Velda’s violet eyes stared back at her, her expression enigmatic. ‘Why the hostility?’ she asked.

  Edith shrugged. ‘Some people should know their place,’ she muttered.

  Velda would not be put off by her rudeness, and her voice was steady and cool as she replied. ‘And what place is that, exactly?’

  Edith sniffed as she looked at the faded cotton dress, the scuffed shoes and lack of stockings. ‘Neither fish nor fowl,’ she snapped. ‘This is a high-class establishment. I don’t know why he gives you houseroom.’

  Velda’s high cheek-bones flushed, and Catriona didn’t know if it was with anger or shame. ‘You seem to have a very high opinion of yourself, Edith,’ she said coldly. ‘But you are a servant – whereas my daughter and I are Demetri’s guests. You would do well to remember that.’ She lifted her chin and swept with all the imperiousness of a queen into Demetri’s quarters, leaving Edith in the hall, mouth open like a la
nded trout.

  Catriona stared at her mother in amazement. She had never seen Velda so cold and in command before – yet, as the door closed behind them, the veneer fell away and Velda sank onto a chair and dipped her chin. ‘Is this to be the way of it?’ she sighed. ‘Scorned, treated like dirt by women like that because we must take charity?’

  ‘You were brilliant, Mam,’ breathed Catriona. ‘She wouldn’t dare talk to you like that if Demetri was around, and I reckon she’ll give you a wide berth from now on.’

  Kane entered the room and sat down just as the maid brought in the tureen of soup and basket of freshly baked bread. ‘Cook says to ring when you’ve finished that, and I’ll bring the main course.’ She pointed at the rope bell-pull by the door and left.

  Catriona eagerly began to eat. The soup was hot and steaming and full of vegetables and bits of ham. It was delicious.

  Velda stirred the soup around and around with her spoon, ate a couple of mouthfuls and left it. She picked up the bread roll and began to crumble it in her fingers as she stared out through the windows to the garden beyond. ‘I wonder where our host is,’ she said without emotion.

  Kane stirred the soup and added salt and pepper. ‘He’s gone out to his shed,’ he muttered. ‘Seems he prefers his own company to ours.’

  ‘What does he do in his shed?’ asked Catriona.

  ‘Who knows,’ Kane shrugged. ‘Probably messing around with his chemicals and gloating over his gold.’ His voice was tight, the bitterness sharp.

  Catriona eyed him thoughtfully. Kane ate his soup, his napkin tucked into the crisp white collar of his shirt. He was looking very smart, she noticed. With a clean, pressed suit, highly polished shoes, new shirt and silk tie. There was a handkerchief to match the tie, drooping from the breast pocket of his jacket, and the gold chain of a watch dangled across the embroidered waistcoat. Yet he didn’t seem to be in a better mood. The argument with Demetri obviously still rankled.

  He seemed to become aware of her scrutiny. ‘Demetri lent me a few items to be going along with,’ he said. ‘I have to be properly dressed when I deal with the guests.’

  Catriona still had that furious row at the back of her mind, and was intrigued to learn what it had all been about, but she knew that now was not the time to question him. ‘What does Demetri want you to do?’ she asked instead.

  ‘I will be a master of ceremony,’ he said as he finished the soup and leaned back in his chair. ‘I will organise picnics and parties, card games and entertainment for the guests. I will arrange hunting parties for the men and tea parties for the women. I will iron out any problems that may arise and ensure they have a pleasant stay.

  In short, I will be in charge of this rabble Demetri calls staff.’

  ‘Does Edith know that?’ She grinned, knowing the question was cheeky, but unable to resist asking.

  Kane sighed. ‘Poor Edith. With those looks and unfortunate manner, she will never get what she wants. One almost feels sorry for her.’

  Catriona eyed him. He didn’t look the least bit sorry for Edith, but he did seem to have some insight as to why she’d been such a cow to Mam. ‘What does she want? Surely she has everything here?’

  Kane rose to pull the cord and summon the maid. ‘Everything but the man she pines for,’ he replied. ‘Alas, Demetri does not see her as the wife she longs to be, so instead of mistress, she must remain servant.’

  ‘Poor Edith,’ muttered Catriona. ‘No wonder she’s so sour.’ She leaned back and waited as the maid took away their bowls and set the large plates of roast meat and vegetables before them. Cheese and biscuits and a bowl of fruit would be their dessert. Catriona had never seen such food before, or in such quantities and she tucked in. The meat was tender, the gravy thick and tasty, the vegetables fresh and crisp, oozing in butter. The Depression was obviously over, at least for the people who lived in this house. ‘Try and eat something Mam,’ she coaxed as Velda once again played with her food.

  ‘I’m going to bed,’ she said as she pushed the plate away and stood. ‘Goodnight, Mr Kane, goodnight, Catriona.’ She brushed her lips lightly over Catriona’s hair and drifted out of the room.

  ‘It will take your poor mother some time to come to terms with her loss,’ said Kane as he speared a square of cheese and helped himself to butter and biscuits. ‘But sooner or later she will have to realise she can’t rely on Demetri’s generosity for ever.’

  ‘You mean we’ll have to leave?’ Catriona’s pulse began to race and all the pleasure she’d gained from the food was lost.

  ‘That depends,’ he said thoughtfully through the cheese.

  Catriona waited. Perhaps now she would learn about the row he’d had with Demetri earlier.

  ‘Demetri is a wealthy man, who made his fortune in the goldfields. He came here over twenty-five years ago when his family was killed in the pogroms back in Russia. He had nothing to lose and everything to gain.’ Kane waved his knife in the air. ‘This was his dream, and it seems he has achieved it.’

  He ate another biscuit and stared out of the window into the darkness of the garden. ‘But one must never forget that Demetri is a man used to working with his hands. He’s a peasant, with a peasant’s mentality. He does not always keep his word.’

  Catriona sat in silence, confused at the conflicting thoughts and emotions his words conjured up.

  Kane finished eating, brushed the crumbs from his moustache and beard and pushed away from the table. He walked to the sideboard and poured a glass of port before lighting a cigar. ‘It was agreed I would take up this post on the understanding we shared the profits. It was also agreed we would be partners in his next mining venture. Demetri has reneged on his promises, and I am to be merely his factotum. The man is not a gentleman.’

  Catriona could see the tightly reined anger in Kane, and wondered how it was she saw the Russian in such a different light.

  Kane must have noticed her reluctance to believe him, for he smiled and patted her hand. ‘I don’t wish to frighten you, my dear,’ he said softly. ‘Of course I will do all in my power to keep you and your mother here. But Demetri cannot be trusted. He’s a liar and a thief and capable of great violence. It would be better if you were never alone with him.’

  ‘He wouldn’t hurt me,’ she protested. ‘He’s not like that.’

  Kane placed his hand over hers and smiled. ‘My dear, let my experience of life and men such as Demetri guide you. He may seem friendly, but believe me, there is another side to him which I hope you never have to see.’ He paused for a moment and then seemed to come to a decision. ‘Demetri once killed a man,’ he said softly, his fingers tightening on her hand. ‘It was back in the days when we were in the gold-fields, and he had to leave quickly before the police arrived.’

  Catriona stared up at him as he stood and threw the napkin on the table. ‘Come my dear. It’s time you were in bed, and I have work to do.’ He put his arm lightly around her shoulders and brushed his warm lips over her forehead. ‘Sleep well,’ he murmured as she walked away from him.

  Catriona climbed the stairs and listened outside her mother’s door. There was no sound, so she carried on down the corridor and went into her room. Sitting on the bed, she brushed out her long dark hair, before plaiting it in preparation for sleep.

  Having turned down the covers she pulled the faded cotton night-dress over her head, slipped between the cool linen sheets and turned out the light. Yet, as she lay there in the darkness staring at the moon which hovered outside her window, she found sleep elusive. Her thoughts were jumbled. Demetri had seemed so nice, so friendly and kind, and he’d been generous to a fault. So why did Kane portray him as an ogre? Had he really killed a man? Was he dangerous? The images didn’t match up. It seemed to Catriona that Kane was a bitter man, and that bitterness had stemmed from the row she’d overheard earlier. Perhaps she would never know the real reason behind that furious argument, but she was determined to decide for herself whether to trust Demetri or not.

&n
bsp; *

  The land surrounding Demetri’s palace had been manicured and tidied by an ancient gardener and his two young apprentices. There were shady arbours for the guests to sit in out of the fierce sun, tables and chairs and umbrellas dotted about the terraced lawns, and in one corner there were croquet hoops set out should anyone wish to play. Stone steps led the way down to the river where turtles and fish hid beneath the water lilies and herons tried their luck along with the fishermen. The tennis court and swimming pool were popular, and even at a distance, Catriona could hear the calls and laughter and the clink of glasses as the barman poured drinks at the garden bar.

  Catriona had come to explore after having a splendid breakfast in the kitchen. Cook had presented her with a plate of sizzling eggs and bacon and one of the younger maids had sat with her over a cup of tea and regaled her with gossip concerning Edith and her unrequited love for Demetri. They had giggled and chattered and lost track of time until Cook, looking stern, had ordered fifteen-year-old Phoebe to get on with her work. Phoebe had left with a wink, and it looked to Catriona as if she’d made a friend of a similar age for the first time.

  Now she peeked through the trees at the men and women who sat on long chairs in the sun, and who seemed to have little to worry them but the depth of their tan and the chill of their chosen tipple. On the driveway the chauffeurs were polishing the elegant cars, giving her a cheery ‘G’day’ as they gossiped and discussed the day’s race meeting.

  Catriona wandered around the outside of the house taking it all in. This was a world she never knew existed; a world in which money was spent without thought, clothes worn with the carelessness of people who knew someone else would pick them up, launder them and put them away again. How very different it all was to the life she had known. Poppy would have been in her element here, she thought sadly. How she would have loved the clothes, the jewellery, the flash cars and the mounds of wonderful food. She wished she’d stayed with the troupe – wished that Poppy could have shared this with her.